


Trust in Us

by eevoch



Series: What Started As A Game [2]
Category: Chrono Trigger
Genre: Basically the Magus' castle portion of the game, Bittersweet, Brief Characters, But they cant say it, Dialogue Heavy, Feelings Realization, Fights, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, emotionally stunted characters, feelings discussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 18:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15149660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eevoch/pseuds/eevoch
Summary: Approximately a month after their escapade, Flea and Magus finally discuss how they feel for one another. The worst pain is to lose something right after you get it.(I also wanted to make up for the sin I disgraced this fandom with by wrecking what it ended on.)





	Trust in Us

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, I felt dirty just only writing smut for this fandom, and I needed to contribute something else. Its like 5am and i thought of this while trying to sleep like 4 days ago. Uh, enjoy, and all other characters mentioned after Flea and Magus in the tags have very brief appearances and some are only mentioned without dialogue. This will also have a 3rd part that might fix everything, maybe.

The day was coming to a close, evident by the setting sun that could only be seen out of a single window in Magus' castle. Darkness was usual in the castle, dim lights of candles being the only reason anyone could see in such a pitch place. Instead of wandering aimlessly like Magus occasionally did when he was bored, he had a purpose for walking the halls this day. He was looking for someone. That someone being the Magician that he'd hesitantly grown closer to over the course of their recent escapades. Though not every time they met ended with them sleeping together, they spent time together and spoke about things other than battle plans. 

Magus had come to learn many things about his subordinate. He was very witty and enjoyed Magus' own dark humor, he liked to read, and found amusement in turning Slash's skin bright green. What he and Flea hadn't talked about, was how they feel for each other. Neither of them had close connections to anyone and such intimacy was foreign to both of them. Magus had remembered Schala once telling him that if he stayed true to his heart, it would never lead him astray. And every time his mind wandered to the witty Magician he felt his heart beat just slightly faster.

Flea turned the corner with misty strands of magic wafting around his fingers as he made small globes of energy appear and used them to light the candles that had gone out. Magus saw the flick of a pink braid and walked up to him a bit quicker than he may have intended. "Flea, just the mage I was looking for," he announced, voice confident despite his slight nerves. The pink haired Mystic turned around, losing the concentration of magic that wrapped around his fingers.

"Sir Magus? What a delight to see you here, can I help you with something?" He asked the wizard, his signature grin on his face. The pretty Mystic was clad in a thin white gown, the front coming down to his knees while the back continued in a long train. Long sleeves with cut-outs in the shoulders and cuffs that held the shape of bells and a high neckline. The dress itself was fairly simple with deep pink lining and he wore a pair of white leather boots that came to his knees but instead of having the shape of regular clunky boots, they fit his shapely legs like stockings. It was a simple, elegant look that Magus loved on him. Sometimes the fiendlord was confused on where he even got such outfits. 

"I wanted to speak with you, in private if you may. And since your bedchambers are closer, there would be more ideal," the words came out quick, but Magus held firm eye contact. He wasn't scared of how this would go, he wasn't scared of anything. For once in his life though, he couldn't even predict his own next move. 

"Of course, sir," Flea agreed simply, acting casual with Magus in case either of the other generals were in earshot. Once in front of his door, Flea cast through the wardings with ease and warded it back up when they got inside. He took his hair out of the plait it was in and allowed it to fall around his shoulders and down his back in small pink coils.

"This would be better if we sat down," Magus mumbled, already taking a seat on the Magician's bed. Flea looked briefly puzzled at Magus' different behavior, but said nothing and sat beside him.

"Is everything alright?" He asked, tucking a strand of the wizard's long hair behind his ear. Magus nodded, not noticing when he either leaned into Flea's soft hand or it simply pressed closer to his face.

"Everything is fine, but I would like to tell you a few things." He began, taking a deep breath and finding his words that his quick mind normally had by then. "We... we have grown quite close in the past while. It seems like a month now, but I'm not sure, time gets away from me when I'm leading an army." He thought of how to continue. "I care for you as more than a subordinate, more than a bedmate. And I've never cared for anyone this much since..." the fiendlord trailed off.

Flea pressed a kiss to his forehead, at the dip of his widow's peak. "It's alright, you can tell me," he assured, taking Magus' hand in his free one and holding it comfortingly.

"Since my sister." He finished, his heartbeat quickening with how fast the memories of Schala came back to him. He usually avoided talking about this, but he'd dodged it long enough. "And I recently remembered something she told me long ago, and I never disobeyed my sister." He whispered, giving Flea's hand a slight squeeze.

"And that is?" The mage asked, curious.

"I... she... it's difficult to say aloud, but my mind and heart both know it as the truth." Magus admitted with newfound assurance. "You mean very much to me, Flea, and I hope you know this. I would never lie to you, and..." a pause. He collected his thoughts. "And dare I say I trust you more than I trust anyone else in this castle." He finished with utmost sincerity. "You are beautiful, powerful, and very, very intelligent. If I didn't lead the Mystics, I would want you to do it. You have wit and charisma unseen of in this dreary world and I truly believe you have the strength to do anything."

"Magus..." the mage began again, but was cut off by the wizard who shook his head.

"Janus. You may call... call me Janus. That was my name before I arrived here, nobody else knows it, Ozzie never asked, he saw that I could manipulate the arts of magic and gave me a new name without asking what mine really was." He corrected, eyeing the Magician only to find his deep magenta eyes glowing at the corners and sparking with flickers of pink and white. A dazed smile on his lips as he dragged his thumb over Magus' cheekbone in soft circles.

"That, my lord, is a beautiful name. I wish I had some astounding secret name I could tell you, but alas, I've only been known as simply 'Flea' for as long as I can remember." He added with a dry chuckle.

"Well, you are more than, 'simply Flea', to me. You are anything but simple, really. You're the bane of my existence yet the meaning for it all the same time. Did you know that?" Magus asked, bringing the hand that wasn't interlaced with Flea's and bringing it to rest over the Magician's heart. 

"Janus..." the mage breathed, the colored sparks in his eyes increasing in number. "I never knew that until now, but do not doubt that I would fight by your side every day for the rest of my life if I had the choice to." He felt the pace of his heart pick up under Magus' hand.

The fiendlord took in another deep breath like he did some time ago and decided it was time for the second part of the conversation to come. It couldn't be avoided much longer. "You may not have that choice, Flea." He muttered, his voice going back to as deep and stoic as it usually was.

The Mystic's eyes widened, "What do you mean? What does that mean? Do you plan on leaving us?" He babbled, grabbing Magus' hand by the wrist, ready to pull it away from himself.

"Possibly. But not by choice, I'd never purposefully leave something I never thought I'd get again. I don't know if you remember this, but some time ago Ozzie failed in withholding three humans away from the bridge. Since then they have been able to advance further and while they've been in and out of what seems to be this time period a few times, I can sense them drawing near." He quickly explained, not wanting the mage to be set off by his sudden announcement.

Flea stiffened, but his voice was steady, "That was Ozzie, he never truly fights, we can take them if they come here. Slash and I, and you, they don't stand a chance." He reasoned, sounding fearless and ready but Magus didn't miss the very brief spark of yellow that flickered in deep pools of magenta.

"I need you to listen to me, Flea. There is something I am planning and hope to get done before their arrival. Something very private I cannot disclose to even you, though if they manage to defeat us, I may end up no longer here. I won't die, I promise you that, but I won't be here in the castle." He told the Magician truthfully.

Flea's neat eyebrows arched in confusion. "Who's going to look after it in your absence? Surely not Ozzie, yes he is good at battle plans but he's no good at any actual combat. He isn't fit to lead in your place."

The wizard looked at Flea like he should've known the answer all along.

Flea's eyes widened, "Janus... I could never... I really couldn't ever amount to enough to take your place," he gasped out. Magus saw another spark of yellow.

"There is no one I'd ever choose over you to lead in my place." The fiendlord whispered to him in a gentle tone. "You are everything a leader needs. Brave, powerful, and smart. These Mystics would be glad to have a beautiful vision such as you to lead them."

Flea shook his head, "You are all that and more, Janus, I cannot possibly lead." He seemed to be grasping at straws now, unable to believe that Magus could be leaving.

"I am sorry to burden you with this, but I need to know that I can depend on you if I am gone. There is no one I trust more than you, so I am putting faith in you to hold my castle in good hands while I'm away." He told the Magician once more. Flea worried his bottom lip between his teeth, small fangs pressing into the flesh.

"I do not... wish for you to go." Flea said in a hushed voice. "You are my leader, my...." he cut himself off, and Magus felt the mage's heartbeat quicken under his hand. "Who will entertain me while you're gone?" He asked, trying to avoid thinking of anything that would really impact his daily living by Magus leaving. He could always entertain himself, that much was true, but he didn't want the fiendlord to see how much this sudden news had gotten to him.

The wizard let out a punched out chuckle, "Surely, pulling pranks on Slash can hold you over until I return?" He assumed, moving his hand from Flea's chest to where his other one rested on his cheekbone. Flea had smaller hands than Magus did, but not overly so, as the wizard's hands comfortably covered his like a blanket.

The laugh that escaped Flea's mouth sounded more like a sob than he intended it to. "This was truly a cruel chain of events, I got myself close to you, and now I'm going to lose you. For who knows how long." He murmured in slight denial but more so in disbelief.

"I won't be gone forever, have some faith, Flea. Here, maybe this can slightly make up for it. If I'll be gone, this part of me will still be here. With you," the wizard hummed. Conjuring a small blade, he sliced of a lock of his hair. It was long enough that it matched Flea's in length since their hair reached to about the same spot in the first place. "And since you are the master of plaits, I will allow you to braid it in yourself. If anyone asks, turn them into a frog, I don't care." 

The previous yellow sparks in Flea's eyes were replaced by the light pink ones again as he held Magus's hair between his fingers. Snapping his fingers so he could conjure a small clasp to hold each individual strand together, he gasped for a piece of his hair that matched the length and was also able to be parted in two so he could weave the third piece in. Magus watched him as he focused, and allowed a small, genuine smile to slip upon his lips when Flea finished with a watery smile of his own. "Your hair is very soft," he whispered, and Magus brought a hand to run his fingers across the small plait that was low in contrast to the high braids Flea always held his hair in.

"I took lessons from the best," he teased lightly, causing Flea's sad smile to perk into a slightly amused grin.

Looking into Magus' eyes, the mage paused for a moment before speaking. "So this is real? You're really leaving, and we're under direct attack?" He ran over the situation once more. They always won every battle against the humans, he didn't understand how this small few could surpass their defenses without much struggle.

Magus frowned, he noticed the tips of Flea's ears had drooped a bit. "Regretfully, all that much is true, but I trust you, so you must trust me when I say that it will be alright." He gripped the Magician's hand slightly tighter. 

"I feel like," Flea forced a laugh before continuing, "I feel like very sad organ music should be playing. Or a violin." He mumbled, trying to soften the blow.

"Watch out, Slash will take offence for his pianos," Magus jabbed, the corners of his lips twitching in a smirk.

Scoffing, Flea felt his own signature grin come to light. "As if, he can't even play one, he got frustrated so he sliced it in half." The Mystic reminisced. Magus snuffed out a faint laugh and leaned forward to press a lingering kiss to Flea's light pink cheek.

"I am going to miss you," was all he could say, realizing this was the first actual time he got to say goodbye to whom he cared about before leaving them. He didn't have a chance when he was separated from Schala.

The mage shook his head, "Wherever you are, just don't forget me, alright? Because I am going to miss you too." He reassured, removing one of the small red bead piercings from its place in his earlobe. "This normally matches my battle outfit, but I guess you can have it so it is as if a piece of me is going with you."

Magus smirked, it was so like Flea to worry about his own aesthetic before giving a part of it up. He removed his own earring and held it out in exchange. "How about a trade off?" He suggested, "this would probably look better on you anyway." The wizard added, his gaze soft.

Flea took it with a smile, putting it in place of his own, watching as Magus did the same. The red of the bead was a stark contrast to the silvery blue of his hair, but he was sure it was the same for him, the silver earring most likely clashed with his deep pink hair. Then again, so did the lock of Magus' hair that he had braided into his own. He chuckled at the thought. They had completely different aesthetics.

Magus thought for a moment, before taking the small knife from before in hand and cutting off a thin, shorter piece of Flea's hair, holding it together with a thin fabric clasp. When the Mystic looked at him, confused, the fiendlord allowed a small smile. "You know I don't do braids, but..." he trailed off and went to twist the lock of hair around the chain of his amulet, the dull, grey chain now colorful with warm pink.

"Well, that certainly looks much better," the mage praised, his grin widening. "Now I don't think you could forget me even if you tried." He chimed.

Magus took into account how much time he had spent in Flea's room, and his smile faltered. There wasn't much time he could waste. "Of course I couldn't. Your warmth will leave a mark on my soul wherever I go." He paused, wishing he could freeze time for only a few more moments. "I detest to say this, but I must take my leave. There is much to prepare." He stood up, leaning forward to place a kiss atop Flea's head, and when he pulled away the mage pulled him back down for one last kiss, a deep press of lips that didn't need more to show what it meant. "Don't forget our promise," he whispered, the words against Flea's lips making them feel alive.

When they parted, Flea watched him go to the door and cast through the wardings. "Janus," he breathed, his eyes staring longingly at the fiendlord. He turned around one last time, raising his eyebrows in a wordless question. "I will wait for you," the mage finished, light pink sparks drifting in his eyes with the occasional speck of deep blue. Magus smiled, for there was nothing else to be said, and left. 

Flea warded his door back up with a flick of his hand and touched the lone braid that could easily get lost in the waves of his hair. He had to prepare too, he knew that, but he allowed himself a moment to think. Besides himself, he never cared for anyone before, and definately didn't imagine caring this much for his leader. He barely expressed any emotion other than the jovial, gleeful facade and a suggestive, flirty attitude. He never allowed himself to be vulnerable, but this was different.

He trusted Magus, and Magus trusted him in return. It was a mutual relationship built on trust. ~~In a sense they were like human lovers.~~ Though he never thought that the night he seduced his leader in what he called a game, would end up with them like this. With his heart pounding and his face warm when they were alone together. Running his fingers over the braid a final time, he took a pass on practicing magic in the Void tonight. There was too much on his mind for him to focus.

The next few days full of battle plans and how they were going to deal with the enemies that were heading their way. Flea had taken the responsibility of following them around in the form of a small bat, and since Magus' castle was no unordinary place for bats to be, he figured that nobody would blink an eye. In the heat of battle he would leave and report what was happening, then return when the battle ended. 

When this was set in motion, everything seemed to be going well, and Flea noticed that the young man turned frog from that time ago had joined their company. He was joined by a boy with spiky red hair and a bandana, along with a girl with pink hair under a clunky helmet and a gun. Which was strange, Flea never saw guns. Everything seemed to be going according to plan, and they arrived at Slash's room. Flea had hoped the swordsman would not be a complete imbecile and lose this fight, and watched from afar as it went on. It truly looked like Slash was giving it his all, and these humans (with the addition of the frog) were giving him just as much of a challange. 

Slash was well trained and a skilled fighter, which was why Flea was stuck in a state of utter confusion and disbelief when he lost. He watched the Mystic disappear in a flash of light, knowing he was most likely alive, but very injured. This was considered in the plan, if Slash were to lose, Flea was the one who would take them on next. 

He took up a decoy when they finally arrived to his room, knowing the most he could do with it was drain at least one of them of their magic. When the decoy was defeated, the frog was quick to catch on that the mage had used one of the many tricks up his sleeve.

"Wait. That isn't Flea. Where's the _real_ Flea?" The frog called out, and the mage knew it was time to transform back into himself.

"Mwa ha... here, over here..." he cooed out, putting on the persona everyone else saw. A vain, most likely insane, and wicked individual. He was dressed in his signature battle uniform, and the memories it carried made it more meaningful than just a battle uniform. "Giving up, little tadpole?" He chimed, grinning.

The girl with the gun shouted out next, "Hey! Who _are_ you?!" And Flea quickly noticed the boy with the bandana didn't seem to speak much at all.

"Keep your guard up!" The frog shouted again. "This is no ordinary woman! Meet Flea, the Magician!" He told his comrades. Flea couldn't stop the scowl that etched onto his face. He could deal with most anything else but if he got referred to as a female one more time, he was going to freeze someone to death.

"What the...?! Hey! I'm a guy!" He corrected, his cape rising around him with his sudden force of irritation.

"Say what? That's a guy?!" The girl gasped, surpise but not disgust evident on her face. Flea rolled his eyes, humans could be so obtuse sometimes.

"Male... female... what's the difference? Power is beautiful, and I've got the power!" He repeated the line he told anyone who questioned his gender identity. He didn't see why it was such a big deal, perhaps later he could ask... right. Magus wouldn't be there. Flea turned and posed, keeping the sunny persona he held. There was slightly more talk before the fight itself, mainly of the Mystic provoking the frog, before he decided it was enough and engaged them in battle.

Slash may be the better swordsman, but Flea was far more experienced with magic than he was. It was a part of his life ever since he was young. He had mastered it for the longest time, and other than his outward appearance, his magic skills wre something he could pride himself on. He expected to win, if not by skill alone, then by tactical means. ~~And because Magus was counting on him.~~

He wasn't used to being wrong. He was rarely ever wrong. He didn't expect that despite using every trick he had, he underestimated them and got knocked back again and again. They were strong, and hit at his weak points despite never having faced him in conflict before. While his magical defenses were very high, his physical ones weren't as much so. He fought back for as long as he could but defeat was inevitable, he could see that now. He dearly hoped that Magus would be alright. That was the last thought he was able to conceive before he was knocked back for the final time, unable to fight any longer.

"Sir Magus..." he breathed, using the last of his strength to teleport to his private chambers, gasps of pain escaping his lips. He immediately knew his sheets would be ruined until he got enough strength to fix it. The healing process would take maybe a few days until he was well enough wander about the castle again, so he was about to be left alone with his mind for quite a while. He started with healing the worst of the wounds, a deep slash in his arm, another across his side and a wound from the gun in his shoulder. Those were the worst among the others he had. As upset as he was over the outcome, he had to admit they were very skilled fighters.

Ozzie was the last one keeping them away from Magus, and Flea sincerely hoped that he was successful in his tricks and traps. He wished to reach a hand to feel the silvery blue streak of Magus' hair that was braided into his long plait, but could only manage a twitch of his fingers. Threads of pink, green and a myriad of other colors fizzed around each digit as he tried to heal his body. He wondered if Slash was much better off than he was, their enemies didn't hold anything back in either fight.

"I can't handle this," the mage mumbled to himself, after being immobile for longer than half an hour. He rarely sat still on a normal occasion, always trying out new spells or arranging new outfits, so not being able to move was very unfamiliar to him. The Magician decided he very much disliked this.

A day passed and Flea managed to pull himself to a comfortable position on his bed, with his head resting on a pillow and a blanket haphazardly strewn across his abdomen. He slept a lot, which he was thankful for as it stopped his conscious mind from running wild with unwanted thoughts. He wondered if Magus was okay.

After a much needed first day of rest, the second day Flea focused more on healing than he did before now that he regained some of his strength. In the meantime and with a bit of focus, he was able to change into something a bit more comfortable than what he battled in. The belt was really starting to bother his sides. Most of his thoughts that day were if Magus was okay, since sleeping didn't seem to be as easy as it was before.

By the third day he began to grow bored. Laying in bed and doing nothing but healing and not knowing anything of the fight after his own loss was eating him alive. He presumed Slash was occupied with healing as well, so he couldn't very much count on him for answers. Flea realized now that the castle held some sort of empty air to it. He wondered how long it had been there. 

On the fourth day, the Mystic decided he could not take lying around any longer. He felt well enough to stand, to walk, and could even focus enough to fix his braid that had come loose in the past few days. He immediately knew what he had to do first. It had been four days, and no word from Magus. He was only able to tell by the clock he kept on a small table near his bed. It had no numbers on it, yet it chimed once during midday, and once at midnight. Truly helpful in a castle with only a single window. His eyes sparked with pale green. Worry. Nervousness. He hoped Magus was still in the castle somewhere.

Realizing before he was even two steps to his door that he was still in a sleeping gown, he quickly changed into something more appropriate for walking around outside his private quarters. A more form fitting dress than the one he greeted Magus in a few days ago, simply to lift his own spirits. It was a rich red color, with a frilled skirt that stopped at the knee while the bodice was strapless and embellished with a myriad of jewels. He paired it with a black set of stockings that ended at his knees with the ankle boots he wore with nearly everything. Unless it didn't match, then he chose something else. Along with the rest, he decided at the last second to add a pair of lace black gloves, they were fingerless and came up a tad past his wrists. The wounds on his upper arms looked quite unappealing to him though, and the mage wrapped a shawl around his shoulders to shroud the still healing injuries.

Now that he was satisfied with his appearance, he cast through the wardings of his door and took a deep breath. The halls were deathly silent, the castle was never really 'loud' by any means, but it seemed impossible for it to be quieter than before. All the candles had gone out without him to light them, and he tried to spark a few every now and then as he wandered the castle so he could see. While it was true that most Mystics had enhanced eyesight, the castle was pitch black and there was only so much his heightened senses could do for him. With each candle he lit he saw the ashes of what could only be dead Mystics. No bones that could be reanimated with magic. Only ashes. A pity, really, if two of Magus' own generals could be defeated, these magical creatures never stood a chance.

Flea tried to ignore each pile of ash he passed, but he grew slightly weary with each step. _Janus must be alive... he has to be._ He thought to himself, clutching his shawl tighter. Magus was the most skilled magic user he knew, and that was including himself. He would have found a way to live, to win, he couldn't have possibly lost. He came to the conclusion that the empty feeling of the castle before wasn't something he simply imagined. Something felt off, missing, like a chunk of magic had been stripped away.

The Magician approached Magus' room after a while of walking (while noticing a bunch of holes in the floor?) and held his breath. His heart pounded in his ears and he brought a hand to graze his fingers over the silver earring. He entered, and it was much too dark, the room reeked of magic energy, yet he couldn't detect any currently there. Especially not Magus'. He felt his own magic pulse until his hand glowed with light, making the room a bit easier to see. Scanning the area, he hoped to see the fiendlord brooding in a corner, despite not his magic not reaching Flea's own senses. He was mindlessly putting faith into anything at this point.

His heart beat quicker and quicker as he looked around. _This can't be happening._ Quicker, quicker as he ran out of the room and ran towards Magus' private chambers. Quicker, quicker as he ran a path his feet knew by heart. Quicker, quicker, quicker, he could hear his traitorous heart like a drum as he stopped in front of the warded door in front of Magus' room. He felt renewed hope, if the wardings were still in place that meant that wherever Magus was, he was alive. He worked through the wardings, he felt his heart pound rapidly, erratically. He shoved the door open and-

His heart stopped, and fell to his stomach.

Empty.

The room was empty. No remaining magic signature, and that most likely meant Magus hadn't been in this room for a while. Flea pressed his glowing hand over his chest, right over where his hyperactive heart was thudding. He was really gone.

The Magician took a few steps into the dark room, lighting a few candles so he could halt the concentration of magic to his hand. It felt warmer now. Once the inital shock had settled, Flea didn't know what to feel. Magus had predicted this after all, he talked the mage through it all those few nights ago. He had informed the Mystic that he would likely be leaving, there was nothing he could've done to prevent this. Only win. Had he won, Magus might still be here. Flea repeated those thoughts over and over again in his head, eyes scanning the room at every corner until they landed on a piece of parchment that had writing neatly scrawled over it.

Eyebrows peaking with curiosity, Flea slowly walked over to where it sat. It was arranged perfectly on the raised slab of stone Magus used as a table rather than making one of wood like Flea did. His hand loosened on his shawl, though with a bit of help from his magic, he made sure it didn't fall to the ground. Now that both his hands were free, he picked up the parchment and sat on Magus' bed. It wasn't as comfortable as his own. 

_This is surely Janus' handwriting._ The mage thought frantically, beginning to read the (what he assumed was) letter from the beginning.

_Flea,_

_If you are currently reading this letter, it means that we indeed lost, and I am no longer here. Fear not, for I am alive, but I am nowhere in this time era. So please, do not try to look for me. All I ask of you, is to lead the Mystics in my place, and hold my castle in good hands, as I know you are capable of. Ozzie may act as if he leads the scene, but if you disagree with any of his decisions, you have the power to override them. I told him as such the night before we started battle plans. I trust you, and I care very greatly for you. So please, there is an additional request I must make. Stay safe, until my return._

~~_-Magus_~~ _-Janus_

The 's' appeared to be more of a scribble than a letter, and it seemed he had finished signing in a hurry. Flea pressed the letter to his chest before setting it back on the stone. His heart ached and burned. Thoughts ran wild in his mind until his brain short circuited and he could no longer form a coherent thought. He laid down on the bed, inhaling any traces of the wizard's scent that may have remained. It was a pleasant smell, like smoked wood, honey, and a tinge of mint. 

Flea's eyes swam with deep sparks of blue, the color swirling and flickering so intensely it rivaled his natural magenta eye color. Yet he did not shed what humans called a tear. He didn't cry, though the deep empty feeling left by this loss couldn't be amounted to by anything else. Not even the Void left him feeling as empty as losing the one and only person he cared about did.

He didn't leave Magus' room for the rest of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow so that was a ride, honestly, i only wrote this in the middle of the night bc thats when i was at my best, i worked really hard on this, so please tell me what you thought! Or dont, or maybe just drop a kudos, anything works
> 
> You can chat with me on tumblr ab Chrono Trigger and other things @/mytrashisyourtreasure


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